


killing me to love you

by saltziepark



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Things I'll Never Say, one shot but maybe something more down the line? like a collection?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 12:56:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18250283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltziepark/pseuds/saltziepark
Summary: title taken from the vancouver sleep clinic song of the same name // all of the thoughts that keep penelope up at night since she left salvatore





	killing me to love you

**Author's Note:**

> so despite being a writer for nearly seventeen years now, this is my first attempt at fanfiction. i usually try to stay in my lane and only write original characters for forum-based roleplaying sites, but something was nagging my brain after penelope left in 1x14 and this was my attempt at quieting some of those demons. 
> 
> you can follow me on twitter/tumblr @ saltziepark // all mistakes are my own but i would totally love some feedback <3

_your body is broken but you're trying to fight this  
your arms are weary but you're trying to hide this_

_i, i'll bring you home, it's been so long  
ah we're fighting alone back to where we belong_

“You don’t know what it’s like to be haunted by dreams of you, Jojo,” Penelope breathed into the receiver. Her hand was shaking as she held the phone aloft. As if she was brave enough to actually call the girl who consumed her thoughts like a wildfire, burning everything in its path of eventual destruction. As if she would ever bridge the gap between them, pretending that the miles didn't exist, the merge wasn't going to happen, she would get the girl and they would have lived happily ever after. She should have known the moment she saw those brown eyes in the halls at Salvatore that it was over for her. Josie had been the one to give her the introductory tour around the school and Penelope honestly could not have cared less about the history of the school or the secrets it held. She only wanted to know more about her brunette tour guide and the secrets she held. 

“Josie, I-“ her voice cracked and she dropped her head in her hands, fingers riffling through shorter brown locks thanks to Josie. Yet another reminder of the girl that she wore on her body every single day. Not that she wasn’t lying when she said that she could rock a lob, but she always favored marks from Josie that were _less permanent_. Those that faded in a few days, drew angry glares from the evil twin whenever they caught each other’s eyes in the hallway, those that Josie studiously remade in Penelope’s room night after night. Her ministrations when it came to Penelope’s body and loving her like an artist with a prized slab of granite. She had felt worshipped, she had felt seen. It worked between them until it didn't. 

It was late in Brussels. Too late for her to be awake without sacrificing some of her focus in tomorrow’s History of Witchcraft class, but this burning need to connect with Josie, even if it was over voice messages that she would never send, would prove a salve for her bleary and bloodshot eyes. The messages would be saved for days to be replayed, the barbwire and caution tape wrapped around the crime scene of her heart clenching whenever she heard the way her tongue caressed Josie’s name. Like a prayer, like a wish for a different future or even a different right now. 

If she was a stronger person, she would press send and let the words travel through the air and towards Mystic Falls, Virginia, but walking away from Josie Saltzman had taken strength that she did not know she had. She had no strength left, the fight in her a lost cause, the battle over, the martyr meaningless. 

“I’ve dreamed of you thousands of times with thousands of lives spent with you and every single one ends with me alone. I can’t keep doing it to myself, Josie. I can't change fate. I can’t keep fighting for this, for you, when you don’t even want to fight for you.” The words _fight for us_ dying in her throat and turning to ash. 

“I miss you,” lingers at the end of the message before she throws her phone across her bed; the oranges and reds of the sunrise over the city lighting up her dorm room. Heralding another day without her and another sleepless night. At the very least, and a small consolation but a consolation nonetheless, on the nights she didn’t sleep, she didn’t have to dream. And when she didn't dream, she didn't have to lose Josie all over again.


End file.
